The Black King
by Sir Cameron Dragic
Summary: First Class AU. What if Charles Xavier was never able to recruit his original student, Cyclops? Can Scott Summers still find a way to fulfill his destiny? Or will the blonde telepath in his life lead him down a path that he could have never imagined?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I don't know when it exactly it hit me that my life sucked, but I think it probably happened sometime while I was waiting in line at the school cafeteria for another crappy burger and soggy fries. The food at Bayville High sucked, and it was no secret. But unfortunately, I wasn't lucky enough to have someone pack a lunch for me, like most kids, which meant that more likely than not, I was stuck wondering if the mystery meat was actually even meat or not.

So yeah, lunch wasn't exactly the highlight of my day.

"Hey, watch where you're standing, Summers!" A large football player shouted at me as he ran a shoulder into me, accidentally splashing a large gob of ketchup on my faded red shirt. It was an old shirt, and it was probably nearing the end of its life, but it was one of my favorite shirts. And now, it was ruined.

But the worst part was that I couldn't do a thing about it. I'm not exactly what you would call athletic, more like lanky and awkward. I've been told that I'm supposed to fill out by the end of high school, but I'm already a junior, and I haven't really seen any signs yet. Whether or not I still had time to grow, it didn't change the fact that this guy would probably beat me up without breaking a sweat if he really wanted to.

So I wasn't going to give him any reason.

"It's fine. I'll just go wash it out."

Actually, things were not fine, and chances were that the stain wasn't going to come out by running my shirt under a little bit of water. I guess there goes another shirt down the drain. And I really liked this one too.

"Of course you will." The football player said with a condescending smirk that I wanted to wipe off of his face with my fist. But I knew that I didn't stand a chance going up against anyone on the football team, so I just gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the snickering that I heard from all directions.

Although, it was pretty hard to see Jean Grey try to stifle a laugh. Jean was easily the prettiest girl in school, and naturally, being the hopeless idiot I was, I had a gigantic crush on her. Oh, and she was already dating the quarterback of our crappy football team. Yeah, I know, some luck, right?

The closest bathroom was in the back of the lunchroom, but I decided to take the long way to find a more secluded place to wash off my shirt. I definitely didn't need to let any more people see what had happened to me, although it probably wouldn't have hurt my reputation at this point. "Scott Summers: Perpetual Loser" seemed to be pretty firmly ingrained into most people's minds.

And I knew that I wasn't anyone spectacular. I didn't have the best grades in the class, even though it probably seemed like I was always reading. The truth was that I kept a book with me so that people would leave me alone for the most part. Being ignored was definitely better than getting picked on like some of the other less physically inclined guys in my class, although I still got my fair share of dirt kicked in my face.

I didn't come from a rich family either. My parents vanished on my brother and me when I was in middle school, and separate foster parents had taken us in. My brother was out on the West Coast somewhere with his new foster parents, but I was stuck in Bayville with my foster parent, Mr. Milbury, who lived in what was probably the least interesting part of New York. So I guess you could say that I wasn't exactly happy with how things turned out. But I still wrote to my brother all the time, and I guess that he was pretty happy on his end.

So yeah, I guess you could say that I was a pretty normal guy, aside from one little thing.

You see, about a year ago, I found out by accident that I had some pretty insane powers. No, really, I swear that I'm not crazy or anything. For a few weeks, I had been getting bad headaches every day, and out of the blue, I woke up one night and literally blasted away the roof with these…lasers or something that came out of my eyes. It was crazy, but Mr. Milbury didn't seem that surprised. He just gave me these sunglasses, and told me not to take them off, except when he needed me to.

I guess that I should have asked him more about what was going on with me, but to be honest, I didn't really feel like he was going to be able to help much. Still, it felt pretty cool to have these powers, even if I couldn't use them. It made me feel like I was special, and that maybe I was going to be someone famous down the road.

But high school still hasn't changed for me yet, and to be honest, I don't think it ever will. Even with my new powers, I'm still at the bottom of the food chain, and I'm not getting any closer to the top.

Speaking of the top, I had finally found the bathroom I had been looking for. It was by the administration building, and mostly teachers used it, so I knew that it was nicer than most of the bathrooms at school. Just as I was about to go in, a strikingly beautiful girl stopped me in my tracks.

"Excuse me, but are you a student here?" She asked with a British accent that seemed odd to me. Not because I haven't ever heard one before, but because there was something not quite right with it, but I quickly forgot about it once I took in her appearance.

She was just a little bit shorter than me, although some of her height might have come from the high heels that she was walking in. She must have been the first high school student I had ever seen walking around in high heels at school, but she definitely didn't seem to have any issues with them. Beyond that, the most striking thing about her appearance was her platinum blond hair, which ran down in perfectly combed fashion over her considerable…assets. Seriously, this girl looked like she belonged in some fashion magazine, not in a boring place like Bayville.

I realized after a moment that I was staring, and I quickly averted my eyes, "Uh, yeah, I am. Name's Scott." I said quickly, thrusting out a hand, silently cursing myself for not being able to talk to a pretty girl. Not that I had ever had much success talking to Jean or anything.

But to my surprise, she simply smiled and shook my hand, "Emma. Emma Frost."

Before I could fully comprehend the fact that she wasn't completely freaked out by me, Emma pointed to a piece of paper in her hand.

"Do you happen to know where Room 203 is?" She asked, a perfectly manicured finger tapping on said room number on her schedule.

"Oh yeah, totally. I can show you where to go. But, um, I kinda have to take care of this." I replied, pointing to the ketchup stain on my shirt, trying to hide how uncomfortable I was talking to her. I mean, could you really blame me?

"I see. That's going to stain." She said, crinkling her nose in disgust at the sight of the offending red splotch.

Tell me about it.

"Yeah, so if you don't mind, I'm going to go clean it off." I said, gesturing towards the bathroom door.

* * *

By the time I had finally washed out all of the ketchup and got out of the bathroom, Emma was already gone. I guess that she had gotten tired of waiting for me, and had left. Well, I'm sure that conversation was going to be the most I would ever end up talking to her for the rest of high school. Girls like her usually ended up hanging out with the rest of the popular girls, who wouldn't come near me with a stick.

I guess it was nice knowing her while it lasted. I was willing to bet that within a week, she would completely forget that I even existed and our conversation would become an afterthought for her. That was the way that things usually went for me.

Not really thinking much of it, I headed to my fourth period class, Trigonometry. It was actually one of the subjects I really enjoyed in school, mostly because of all of the angles involved in it. I don't know, maybe I'm just weird like that.

I opened the door to find that the room was surprisingly quiet, odd for a high school class. However, I quickly realized that the silence may have had something to do with the stunning blond standing at the front of the class. Right, Room 203. I had neglected to remember that my class was in said room.

"Oh, Scott, sorry for leaving you behind, but I didn't want to be late to my first class at Bayville, and I managed to get someone else to help me." She apologized, while I took a moment to comprehend the fact that she actually remembered my name. Yeah, I know, pathetic.

"Yeah, no problem. I understand." I replied quickly, before being ushered to my seat by Mr. Henderson, who actually was one of my favorite teachers. He was probably the main reason why I actually enjoyed Trigonometry, mostly because it felt like he actually cared about the subject. But even he seemed pretty distracted today.

"Hey, Scott, do you know the new girl?"

I nearly leapt out of my seat once I realized that Jean was asking me a question. And she was leaning up against my desk. She definitely wasn't doing my teenage imagination any favors.

"Not really. I helped her find this class, but that's it." I replied, doing my best to pull out my books from my backpack in a casual motion. I figured it would look cooler, and it would hide the fact that I was currently freaking out about talking to Jean.

"Oh, okay." Jean nodded, motioning to go back to her desk on the other side of the room while I frantically tried to think of something to say in order to keep the conversation going. But it was too late, and Jean was gone before I even had one word ready. I was pathetic.

Like seriously. My best chance ever to talk to the girl of my dreams, and I can't even manage one word.

I didn't really have any time to dwell on that, because Emma took the opportunity to introduce herself to the class, who had more or less settled down and focused its attention on her.

"My name is Emma Frost, and yes, I am the daughter of Winston Frost. I don't hate any of you yet, and it would be in your best interest to keep things this way. That's all."

Damn.

"Er, thank you, Emma. Please, take a seat in the desk behind Scott." Mr. Henderson said awkwardly, not sure how to deal with the situation. Trust me, I would have reacted exactly the same way.

And from the bewildered expressions from the other students in our class, I suspected that most of us felt similarly. Emma strode past me with all eyes following her, but not before flashing a smile in my direction. Apparently, that gesture did not go unnoticed, because, before I knew it, all eyes in the room were now trained on me.

I didn't know it at the time, but that was the start of my new life, and I had no one but Emma Frost to blame for it.

* * *

**Something that I've hated about the X-Men movies so far is that they've essentially thrown Cyclops to the curb, when I feel like he's personally one of my favorite characters in the entire franchise. So I've decided to give him his due in an original story that will be connecting him with the X-Men in the First Class universe, since I feel like it offers a more interesting premise.**

**But I don't want to write something that no one has any interest in reading, so please, let me know if you want to see more with a review or a PM. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. You guys really inspired me to keep going!**

* * *

Chapter 2

"So, Scott, you know that new girl, huh?"

"Scott, tell us all about Emma!"

"How long have you known her?"

"Are you guys…you know?"

I nearly had whiplash from all of the questions I had been forced to answer by students seemingly coming every direction. It seemed like Emma, rather than alienate everyone in the class with her little speech, had instead ignited everyone's interest in her. Right after class ended and Emma had left the room, nearly every other student in the school assaulted me to get the inside scoop on her, with the girls mostly prying for embarrassing information, while the boys tried to get every private detail about her that they could think of.

Not that I could really help either side out with their inquiries. I barely knew the girl myself, and I was really in no position to answer any of the questions posed to me, besides regurgitating what little I actually knew about Emma. Frankly, the girl as much as an enigma to me as she was to anyone else.

"Kinda."

"She's blonde?"

"Since lunch."

"What?"

Thankfully, once it became clear that I wasn't really a reliable source of information, most of the class gave up on their harassment of me, and instead, dissipated in order to head off to their next classes.

I had never been so thankful for choosing a life of a loner before.

Just as I grabbed my backpack, intending to head off to fifth period, I heard a loud commotion outside the room.

Clearly, the rest of the school had just found out about Emma Frost.

As I walked outside of the classroom, I suddenly found myself accosted by a certain blonde who also just so happened to currently be the talk of the school.

"Scott, would you mind escorting me to my next class?" Emma asked, pulling me through the mob of student by the arm, "It's room 304."

Room 304? That was History, with Mr. Evers. Wait, so did that mean that I had another class with her?

"Oh, I forgot to ask, is it in your direction?" She suddenly stopped, "Because I would hate for you to be late on my account."

"Actually, I have that class next, so it's no problem at all," I laughed sheepishly, "I swear, it's like you're reading my mind or something, since you seem to know all my classes."

"Right." Emma replied with an awkwardly forced laugh. Yeah, I knew that it was a weird thing for me to say. But you know, I've read my fair share of comic books, and mind reading has always been one of my favorite powers, not that I really expected Emma to know all of that. But it made me feel a little better to justify my statement.

"Don't worry. I don't think you're weird." Emma spoke up, breaking up the silence between us as we entered the classroom, where we were receiving a fair amount of looks. Oh right, Emma had her hand on my arm. That would explain why I felt like I was some new exhibit at the zoo, with the amount of people staring at me.

"Oh, you must be Emma." Mr. Evers said, doing what everyone had been doing all day, and giving me a weird look, before trailing his eyes up and down Emma's figure, although he mostly wore an expression of disapproval at what he saw. Mr. Evers was an old fashioned guy, but I guess that's why he taught history.

"All right, take your seats, everyone. You can chat with Emma later." Mr. Evers announced to the class, to an unpopular reaction. But, since we knew better than to talk back to Mr. Evers, who was kind of a hardass, the class reluctantly complied.

Satisfied with his display of strength, Mr. Evers began launching into a discussion about the abolitionist movement, and John Brown. Not exactly my favorite topic, but Emma seemed interested enough. At the least, she wasn't staring out of the window like she had all through Fourth Period.

"Summers, stop gawking at Emma! You can do that after class!" Mr. Evers shouted at me from the front of the room, causing all eyes in the room to shift to my figure once more, Emma's included, along with a general effort to stifle back laughter. God, I thought that I was going to die from the embarrassment.

Grumbling under my breath, I decided to pull out some paper to take notes on. It would probably make me less of a target for Mr. Evers anyways, since he seemed to hate it when people weren't paying attention in his class. More so than Mr. Henderson did, anyways.

At least I had a free period for sixth, which meant that I could go home early, although I rarely went straight home anymore. Especially recently, I usually stopped by a comic book store, to do some research about superpowers. So far, I hadn't read about a power that was exactly like mine, aside from heat vision, although I didn't really think that shooting lasers out of my eyes was the exact same thing as heating stuff up.

It was a nuanced difference, but it was a difference nonetheless.

I groaned slightly. Yeah, these were the kind of thoughts that usually went through my head in a typical day of school. And I wondered why girls didn't really want to talk to me.

* * *

"So, are you ready to start gawking at me again?" Emma asked, imitating Mr. Ever's voice as she did so, although she was doing a terrible job of it, at least as far as I was concerned.

We had just gotten out of fifth period, and, as luck would have it, Emma had a free period in her schedule too, which meant that we could take our time to really talk to each other, something that we had not done all day.

Why Emma had wanted to talk to me, over any other guy at school, or girl, for that matter, I had no idea. But I wasn't about to complain, not when she made talking with her so easy. It was weird. When I was around her, I didn't really feel like I was going to have a heart attack, like I did whenever I talked to Jean. Instead, a relaxed feeling washed over me every time I saw Emma's face, even though I found her every bit as attractive as Jean.

I noticed a slight sway in her hips as she stepped in front of me, and I gulped involuntarily. Okay, maybe a little more attractive than Jean.

"Well? Are you, Summers?" She added, in the same terrible impersonation of Mr. Evers, only she emphasized it with an eyebrow raise that was actually spot on.

But still, I could help but to crack up at her voice, which was probably closer to a parrot, than anything else, "Emma, is that really your best impression of him?"

"Oh? I would like to see you do better." She replied pointedly, the challenge clearly laid out for me.

"Summers, stop gawking at Emma!" I squawked out in the most ridiculous voice that I could think of.

"Oh my God, that's even worse than me." She laughed, "You have no right to criticize any of my impressions from now on."

"Fair enough." I chuckled, adjusting my backpack as we walked out into the parking lot, where I would park my car, if I owned one. Unfortunately for me, Mr. Milbury didn't have a car either, so I couldn't borrow one from him either. Not that it was really a big deal.

Like most things in Bayville, school was close enough so that I could walk there each morning without too much issue. Most of the town was concentrated along a town square, and the school was only about a mile down from there, and my house another two miles. So yeah, like I said, no issues with walking.

But apparently Emma thought differently, because she walked straight towards the newest looking car in the lot, an ice white BMW 3200 CS that I almost dropped my jaw at, considering that it was a car I had only ever seen in auto magazines before.

"Emma, is that your car?" I asked, wondering exactly how much it had cost, while admiring the look of the vehicle. It probably would have cost a small fortune to get ahold of one of these, especially since it was European. Fords were expensive enough, so I couldn't even begin to imagine how expensive this had been.

"Yes, my father gave it to me as a present for my birthday." She explained as she slid into the driver's seat.

"Now," She began, patting the seat next to her, "Get in."

"W-what?" I stammered, not believing what I had just heard.

"Take a seat. I feel like going for a drive." She said, patting the seat once more.

"Look, Emma, it's nice of you to offer me that, but, why me? You could ask anyone else at school." I asked, silently kicking myself for doing so. A beautiful girl was asking me to get in her car, and I had to question why? Stupid, Summers, stupid.

But to my surprise, Emma just offered me a soft smile, "Scott, I'm asking you for a reason. You interest me. A whole lot more than any of these other twits at this school."

Wait a second, I interested her? Emma Frost? I must have been dreaming, because there was no way that was true. Was it the sunglasses or something? I mean, I always thought that Rock Hudson was pretty cool, and he wore sunglasses all the time, but I didn't think that just wearing sunglasses made me _that_ cool to Emma, did it?

Emma chuckled, "Scott, contrary to what you probably think, I do actually care about things other than appearances, so stop worrying and get in."

Nodding, I opened the door and sat down next to Emma, holding my backpack in my lap.

What was I getting myself into?

* * *

**So, to answer some questions, I'm picturing this story right at the end of 1961 to the start of 1962 as of this moment, but by the time the next few chapters are done, it should be squarely in 1962, to coincide with the First Class X Men, who I intend to have involved in this story. **

**Also, if you haven't viewed my new summary, I'm making it clear now that this is a story that is strictly Scott/Emma, because I feel like that offers a much more interesting dynamic, and opens new paths for this story to go down. **

**Are you guys still interested in reading more? Please let me know in either a review or a PM.**

**Thanks so much for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for everyone who reviewed this story so far! I really appreciate hearing from everyone! Hope you guys enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 3

"So, Emma, exactly where are we going?" I asked timidly, staring out the window. I wasn't going to say that this was my first time alone in a car with a girl, but…

I glanced over at Emma, who had her eyes directed squarely at the road, and I turned away immediately, not finding it within me to keep my eyes on her any longer.

Who was I kidding? I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. The truth was that I had never had a girlfriend or anything like that before, and this was uncharted territory for me.

"Trust me, Scott. You're going to be glad you came." Emma replied, giving me a reassuring look, although the corners of her mouth tugged up into a slight smirk that made me gulp involuntarily.

Okay, was it just me, or was Emma trying to hint that we were going to do…something? I definitely didn't see coming when I went to school this morning. But was I really going to complain about being in this situation? Sure, I'd always hoped that it would be Jean next to me…but Emma was just as good. Maybe even better.

I felt the car slow to a stop, and I glanced out the window to find that we were pulled over on the side of the road, surrounded on both sides by towering trees, with absolutely no other cars in sight. Effectively, we were completely isolated.

"Well?" Emma said expectantly, interrupting my frantic thoughts.

"What?" I asked.

"Aren't you going to get out of the car?" Emma asked, opening up her own door and stepping out of the car.

Like an obedient puppy, I quickly followed her lead, and trailed after her as she began walking into the forest.

After we had walked a good distance away from the car, we suddenly came upon a clearing in the woods, and Emma turned around suddenly, her heels clacking together as she did so.

"Scott, I have something to tell you." She said, with a serious tone in her voice.

My heart involuntarily began pounding relentlessly, as I tried to formulate an answer, but to no avail. I could do nothing but to stare at Emma, slack-jawed.

"I know your secret."

I cocked my eyebrows in confusion, "M-my secret?"

"I know that you're a mutant." Emma continued, reaching out a hand to touch my sunglasses, but I quickly recoiled at her action.

"Don't do that!" I yelled, placing my hands firmly on my sunglasses, intent on keeping them on my face.

Emma froze, before she regained her composure and ran a hand through her blond locks, "Scott, you were probably wondering why I was so interested in you all day, weren't you?"

"A little bit." I replied, eyeing Emma suspiciously. Something was not right with what she was saying. Secrets, mutants…none of this made sense.

"It's because I'm just like you, a mutant." Emma said, and for a moment, I saw a hint of weakness in her eyes, but the moment passed as quickly as it came, "Maybe my mutation manifested differently, but neither of us are normal."

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" I cried out, staring to realize that, somehow, Emma knew about my powers. I had absolutely no idea how she knew, but she did. It wasn't like I went around telling everyone about them, and then again, I really doubted that people would listen to me if I did. But still, somehow, she knew.

"Scott, please. I promise you that I'll show you mine, if you show me yours." Emma said almost desperately, and I nearly tripped over my own feet, cheeks burning a deep crimson at her words.

"What did you say?" I stammered, not believing what I had just heard.

"I meant your mutation. Calm down, Scott." Emma said, rolling her eyes as she did so. "Boys," she snorted under her breath.

"Oh, yeah, I totally knew you meant that." I forced myself to laugh, although I knew I wasn't fooling anyone.

"So?" Emma asked.

"Look, I have no idea who told you that I have a mutation, or something, but that's not true! I'm just an average guy!" I said defensively, hoping that Emma would drop the subject.

_Scott, will you stop panicking, and just listen to me for a second?_

I flinched in surprise as I heard Emma's voice speaking to me, despite the fact that her lips were shut. It was weird, almost like her voice was coming directly from my head, or something.

_That's because I am in your head, Scott._

"How are you doing this?" I asked, now realizing that the voice was indeed not coming from Emma, and yet, I was hearing her voice in my head, and it definitely wasn't any hallucination of mine.

_I'm a telepath. I can read your thoughts, and project my own into your mind. This is my mutation. _

"Oh my God, you weren't kidding."

_Obviously not._

"So, you know about my powers?"

Emma smiled and placed a perfectly manicured hand on my shoulder, "I've known about them ever since I first laid my eyes on you, Scott. That's how I knew that you were different. Special."

"Wait, if you've been reading my thoughts this entire time, then…" I trailed off, my eyes widening in horror at the realization that Emma had seen every single thought that passed through my mind since I met her, which included all of my thoughts about her.

"Yes, you do have some interesting thoughts." Emma answered the question before I could even put it into words, "And don't worry, I find your thoughts about me extremely flattering."

My cheeks burned red once more, and I suddenly decided to find the sky extremely interesting. God, I could die from the embarrassment.

"How about this?" Emma suggested, "I'll make you a trade. I'll stop reading your thoughts, if you show me your mutation."

"And how do I know that you'll keep your word?" I asked, realizing that I had absolutely no way of knowing when Emma was reading my mind.

"You don't. You'll just have to trust me." Emma replied with a devilish smirk, letting me know that she had absolutely no intention of following through with her end of the bargain.

I sighed.

It didn't really look like I had much of a choice now anyways, except to show her my powers.

"All right, I'll do it." I relented, placing a hand on my sunglasses and facing away from Emma.

"I had a feeling you would." Emma said, partly to herself, partly to me, as I closed my eyes and tossed my lenses to the ground, before opening my eyes and releasing a stream of red energy that nearly knocked me off of my feet with the intensity of the blast. I vaguely saw the blast rocket into a few trees, knocking them aside with ease.

"Okay, that's enough." Emma whispered in my ear as she slipped my sunglasses back into their regular place, her voice causing a shiver to run down my spine, as I meekly adjusted my glasses.

"So?" I asked, trying to break up the silence that had fallen between us.

"That was…impressive." Emma replied, gesturing to the fallen trees that had been left in the wake of my eyes and their beams.

At that, I couldn't help but to feel a small sense of pride at my abilities. From Emma's reaction, it was clear that, even with her ability to read my mind, she hadn't envisioned my powers exactly like that, and the thought made me proud. Someone was actually impressed with me.

It was a nice change from the usual comments thrown my way.

* * *

"Watch it, loser!" I heard, just as a shoulder smashed into my chest, sending me flying into my locker, and my backpack spilling its contents all over the ground.

Yep, just another day in the life of Scott Summers.

However, almost immediately after I had just gotten run over by our school's star running back, I heard the distinctive clicking of Emma's heels against the linoleum floors of Bayville High. I guess that this was one thing that was different about my life now, for better or for worse. Although I tended to lean towards the "for better" school of thinking.

For the last week since our...discussion in the woods, Emma and I had spent a lot of time together, both in and out of school. Yeah, I know, crazy, right? Scott Summers, the lowest of the low at Bayville High, hanging out with Emma Frost, someone who wasn't even close to being in the same league as me. But it worked. I had her back, and she had mine.

Turns out that her little speech on the first day of school had made her a lot of enemies among the girls in Bayville, territory that I normally would not have interfered with if it weren't on Emma's behalf. And I did it because I knew that Emma would help stand up for me, like she was doing right now.

"Maybe you should be doing the same, you imbecile." Emma snapped at the football player, as she put down her books to place her hands on her hips, unleashing a look that could have frozen hell with its intensity.

"What are you saying? Are you saying that I'm dumb or something?" The teen sneered at Emma, his eyes narrowing in anger, although it elicited nowhere the same reaction that Emma's eyes did.

"I don't know. Perhaps you should spend your time reading a dictionary, instead of throwing defenseless students around into their lockers. Who knows? It might get you to use that skull of yours for something useful for once." Emma replied coolly, with each word a weapon that cut through the football player like he was made of tissue paper. And it was clear that he wasn't taking kindly to the verbal assault.

"Y-you…" The boy stammered, clearly not able to think of a rebuttal, before he glared daggers at me and walked off, amid some silent cheers and looks of admiration from other students watching the exchange.

I rubbed my stinging shoulder gingerly, "Jeez, Emma, I really appreciate that and all, but should you really be pissing people off on your second week here? I mean, I don't have much of a reputation to save, but you do."

"People are going to hate me, no matter what I do, and I'm okay with that." Emma said coolly, crossing her arms over her chest nonchalantly.

"Don't say that. People don't hate you." I replied immediately, although I had heard several rumors to the contrary.

"Three. Two. One." Emma began counting down, just as I felt a presence approaching us.

Turning to look at a certain football player that still owed me a new shirt, I nearly shrank back into my locker. Emma, however, did not seem fazed at all by the new arrival.

"I think you owe my friend an apology for what just happened." He growled menacingly, pointing at the victim of Emma's latest diatribe, who looked more confident now that he had backup.

She crossed her arms across her chest, "Oh? Well, apologizing to you would mean that I was wrong about your friend's intelligence. And rarely am I ever wrong, as I'm sure you've realized by now."

"Well, this time, I think that you were." The football player said slowly, the unspoken threat made clear by his tone.

Unimpressed, Emma shook her head, "No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you were." He said angrily, grabbing Emma by the throat with a lightning quick grip.

"Emma!" I screamed, immediately jumping up to my feet, ready to fight. Sure, I had been pushed around before, but things had never gone this far in the past, and I definitely didn't want them to go any further.

"Back down, Summers, before you get hurt. She has it coming to her." He sneered at me, turning his attention back to Emma, who looked at me with surprise in her eyes.

"You think that you can just come here, and insult everyone at this school? I don't care who you're the daughter of. I'm not going to stand for this." He spat, only tightening his grip on her throat. Emma mouthed the word "help," just as the football player pushed her up against a locker.

That was the breaking point.

"Put her down!" I screamed, ripping off my sunglasses, not caring anymore about hiding my powers. The entire world could know, for all that I cared. I wasn't about to let the only person who actually gave a shit about me at this school to be choked out like this. I wouldn't let him lay another finger on Emma after this.

The bright red blast struck the teen directly in the back, causing him to release his grip on Emma and to send him flying into the wall with a satisfying crack.

For a second, all I could hear was stunned silence, before pandemonium erupted.

As students began screaming and running away from me, the realization of what I had just done finally dawned on me.

Quickly jamming my sunglasses back into their place, I tore off in the direction of the parking lot, my books and Emma forgotten.

Did I really just do that? Did I really just blast someone with my eyes? I could hardly believe it. And the worst part was that…it actually felt pretty good. God, it felt so good to just release my anger, my frustration, everything, and give that guy what was coming to him.

Unable to contain it any longer, I screamed at the top of my lungs, my victorious cry echoing through the halls as I ran out of the school building, only to find myself face to face with a man standing alone in the parking lot.

He was dressed in a black dress shirt, paired with matching dark jacket and slacks, an outfit that I really didn't see too often in Bayville. The man was a bit shorter than me, although not by much, and he had a relaxed smirk on his face that seemed extremely unsettling to me.

"Scott!" Emma cried out as she ran out of the school, stopping in her tracks as she saw the man as well.

"Hello there, Scott and Emma." The man said slowly, taking his hands out of his pockets, "My name is Sebastian Shaw, and I would like a moment of your time."

* * *

**Yes, I'm going to have the Hellfire Club involved here, which makes sense given the context of First Class. I never really meant for this to be a high school centered story, except to introduce Scott to Emma. **

**Hopefully, you guys like the direction of the story! Please let me know if you want to see more!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow...it's been a long time since I've updated any story, but hopefully, there are still people who still want to read this?**

* * *

Chapter 4

"Who are you, and how do you know who we are?" I asked the strange man who had just introduced himself to us. He seemed to have an easygoing demeanor, with a slight sway to his walk as he sauntered up to us, while I tried to bore a bore through him with my glare. It took me a few seconds to remember that he couldn't see my eyes through my glasses.

"He's been watching us." Emma said with an edge to her voice. She must have just read his mind while I was staring him down. I suddenly felt extremely lucky that I had a telepath as a friend. It definitely came in handy in moments like these.

"That was quick, Emma. I like it. I didn't even need to ask you to show me your abilities." The man, who had called himself Shaw, said sardonically. His words immediately put me on edge. How had he realized that Emma was reading his mind?

Evidently, Emma had been caught by surprise too, if the look on her face was any indication.

"I have to admit, these weren't the circumstances I was hoping to speak to you two under." Shaw said, and almost as if on cue, I heard the faint whine of police sirens. Shoot, I had totally forgotten about the fact that I had just blasted away one of those football thugs that had been hurting Emma. No doubt someone called the police on me.

I've never been arrested for anything. Hell, I was such a stickler for rules that I never crossed the road without looking both ways. And now, the police were coming for me. Where had it all gone wrong?

Noticing the way I had tensed up at the sound of the sirens, Shaw smirked.

"I feel like we probably shouldn't be waiting around here much longer. Please, come with me and my associate, and we can talk somewhere more comfortable." He said, gesturing to an all black Bentley S2, where a well dressed man with long black hair was sitting in the driver's seat. What was it with me and seeing all of these crazy cars in a place like Bayville?

Noticing that the sirens were starting to get louder, I didn't really see a much better option, so I began to follow him to the car when Emma placed a hand on my shoulder, "Wait a second Scott, let me try to read his mind first."

"Feel free." Shaw said confidently, "My mind is all yours."

Emma's brow furrowed in concentration as she was probably combing through every corner of his mind for any hint of danger.

"Well?" I asked anxiously, eager to either go with Shaw or to make a run for it.

"I can't really find any malicious intent from him…" She said warily. While she hadn't found anything incriminating, she definitely didn't trust him yet.

Shaw's smirk grew larger, "Of course not. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help you."

* * *

So I know that there's some rule about not getting into a car with strangers, but I'm pretty sure no one said anything about private jets. Especially when you had just blasted some high school jock with lasers out of your eyes and were probably going to be sent to jail or something for doing that. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that I would've remembered that rule.

That was why I was currently sitting at a window seat across from Shaw, staring at the sight outside in awe. I hadn't been in many planes before, and I was stunned by how small everything on the ground looked up here. Bayville was like a tiny speck at this point, and I had never really realized exactly how small it was compared to the rest of New York. It was tiny.

"Scott, would you like something to drink?" Shaw asked, causing me to stop what I was doing immediately, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Uh, a Coke would be great." I stuttered out, still a little bit overwhelmed by everything. First the whole deal with Emma nearly getting choked out, then running into Shaw, and now, I was on a plane to Vegas. I didn't even get a chance to pack or tell Mr. Milbury that I was leaving. Of course, the thought of police putting me in handcuffs while I tried to grab some extra underwear definitely made our sudden departure seem better by comparison.

"Of course. Azazel, bring Scott a Coke." Shaw ordered with a snap of his fingers, causing a man to stand from his seat at the back of the plane. All of a sudden, there was a puff of smoke, and when it cleared, I nearly leapt out of my seat in surprise at the sight of what could be best described as the Devil, or something like it.

"What is that?" I yelled, trying to unbuckle my seatbelt, astonished at how Shaw just sat in his seat calmly at the sight. Was I the only one seeing this right now or something?

"_That_ would be Azazel. He has your drink." Shaw said, gesturing towards this "Azazel's" hand, which did indeed have an opened bottle of Coke.

The red faced man motioned for me to take it out of his hands, which I did very carefully. With his job done, he disappeared in another puff of smoke. I whipped my head to the back of the plane, where he was already in his seat, flipping through a magazine.

Seriously, what was going on?

Meanwhile, Emma didn't seem to be fazed at all by anything. She had been sitting next to me, with a serious face the entire time. She seemed to be busy concentrating, probably with reading Shaw's mind. The fact that she was actually on the plane told me that she probably still hadn't found anything too alarming about the guy. Although I could tell that he was definitely someone that wasn't to be messed with, even without telepathic powers.

Shaw cleared his throat, demanding our attention, "Emma, I would appreciate if you would stop reading my mind and give Scott a chance to listen to what I have to say."

Emma quirked an eyebrow at his comments, but said nothing. From the way her face relaxed though, I could tell that she had stopped reading his mind. For now.

Shaw smiled, "Thank you."

Continuing on, Shaw gestured to Azazel, "Now, as you can probably tell, we are not normal humans."

"You're mutants." Emma interjected.

"Yes. And so are you two." Shaw returned without missing a beat, "Which brings me to why I have invited the two of you onto my plane."

"You want us to join your organization." Emma said, "The Hellfire Club."

Shaw nodded, "Yes. We are looking for…special individuals."

"Mutants." Emma inserted for him.

Shaw looked pleased at Emma's words, "Yes, and the two of you have recently come to our attention as prime candidates for our group. We're still waiting to make our formal introduction as an organization, and we think that you and Scott would be great additions to our cause."

"Your cause?" I asked.

"Tell me Scott, have you ever felt like people have shunned you for being different?" Shaw asked, suddenly shifting his attention to me.

Surprised by the sudden question, I nonetheless managed a nod. It was true, if high school had taught me anything, it was that people like me tended to be ignored, or picked on.

"Of course you have. We all have, because of the way we talk, the things we can do, or the way we look. But it doesn't have to be like that. Not when the things that make us different also make us stronger." Shaw made a move for my glasses.

"No!" I said, protectively covering my face with my hands.

Shaw stopped in his pursuit and sat back into his seat, "Scott, I know you have power. You are special. And there are those who would try to stifle you. Force you to rein in your power and to try to be normal. Force you to be ashamed of your gift, instead of embracing it. Think about this: You have more power than anyone in Bayville, and yet, you can't go to class without being pushed into a locker. Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"I…" I trailed off, not really knowing what to say. I had to admit, what he was saying sounded nice, but I couldn't help but to feel like something was off about this guy and what he was saying.

"Scott, my belief is that if you have power, use it. I know you are confused about all of this, but ask Emma, and she will tell you that I just want the best for you."

At his prompting, I looked at Emma, who shrugged her shoulders. "At the least, it doesn't seem like he wants to hurt you. But I can't say much more than that."

Shaw's smile subsided, "All I am asking is for the two of you to give us a chance to show you exactly what we can accomplish as a group. I think that both of you will appreciate what we have to offer."

Emma shared a look with me, before she slowly nodded, "All right. I guess it couldn't hurt. Besides," her eyes darted to me, "We probably can't be in Bayville right now anyways."

Shaw clapped his hands together, "Then it's settled. I would rest up. There is going to be a lot for the two of you to see when we land."

_Scott, what do you think of him?_

Emma's voice nearly made me leap out of my seat, and I noticed that Shaw gave me an odd look at my outburst. The whole telepath thing was something I would have to get used to.

Closing my eyes, I decided to try to think back a response, not knowing if that was going to work or not.

_Very good. You get an A+ Mr. Summers._

_Thanks, I'm trying._

_Now, back to Shaw?_

_He seems okay, but the whole speech he just gave was weird. But I'm not sure I really disagreed with anything he said._

Emma nodded, "I couldn't agree more."

* * *

When we landed, the sun was already setting, bathing the entire airstrip in a heavenly golden glow. Stepping out of the airplane was like stepping under a heat lamp, especially for someone like me, who had spent the last few years living in upstate New York. Emma seemed to feel the same way from the way that she began fanning herself, although she kept up her usual poker face.

Riptide and Azazel both shoved past me, nearly knocking me off my feet. They were both pretty solidly built, at least compared to me, and given that they both had powers too, I had no doubt that both of me could probably beat me up if they wanted to. I guess some things never change. Even here, I was still Scott Summers: Perpetual Loser.

Following them was Shaw, who at least whispered an "Excuse me," when he slipped past me.

Shaw stopped in front of us, turned around, and smirked, spreading his arms out wide.

"Welcome to Las Vegas." He announced grandiosely, as the Strip began lighting up with a kaleidoscope of colors behind him. I had to admit, I gasped a little bit at the sight.

"And," He added in a smaller voice, "Welcome to your new lives."

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**Hopefully you guys liked this chapter. I was thinking that I should round out the Hellfire Club with another familiar face, so if you guys have any suggestions, leave them in a review or a PM. Thanks for reading!**


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